Garlic Breath
by CryHOg
Summary: So, your handsome, German friend asked you out! You'll have wine, pasta, and enjoy his company. Are you prepared to kiss him goodnight after you sprinkled 10oz of parmesan all over your food? Kiss or Pasta? The ultimate sacrifice of the century! Ger/Ity
1. Chapter 1

_**Meet the Arthor:**_ _Hey, guys! CryHOg here... holy crap, I sure hope I know what I'm doing. So about a month ago I went Olive Garden with my mom, aunt, and elder sister. My first time.... please don't laugh at me. After enjoying my delicious cheese stuffed ravioli and getting super drunk off some wine (j/k) I got this silly fanfic idea. I thought it'd be cute to do a Hetalia fanfic of Germany taking Italy out on a date at Olive Garden.... ISN'T THAT CUTE??? I'm gonna tell ya, now. Other than showing off my cleavage on youtube, this is my first time EVER revealing a fanfic off the internet. And to be honest, I think I totally suck ring pops and sea salt ice cream at writing. I totally won't be surprised if a few readers agree. Hell, I even got let down by a buddy telling me my grammar needs serious maintenance. I wanted to tell him, "Hey, buddy! My ass is broken. Why don't you pull out your lips from your tool kit and kiss it?" But I knew he was right. But if he ever comes near my butt, I swear on everything I know and love...._

_...oh, wow. I turned this fanfic into a Degrassi Journal._

**Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya **

**This FanFic is for entertainment purposeless only and enjoyment for the readers. **

**Garlic Breath**

"Eh...?" A flushed Italian man said, surprised, nervous, and shocked. All the above. The taller man standing before the shocked, surprised, nervous... all the above Italian cleared his throat in frustration. The noise was so deep, the sound vibrated the Italian's chest and rattled his ears.

"A date," Those words escaped the tall German's lips for the fifth time already. "I would like to... take you out."

"Eh...?" That word escaped the Italian's lips for the fifth time already.

The blonde's eyebrow twitched. If this is the only response this pasta loving dork is going to give him, he's just going to drop everything and go back to his work post. After gathering the courage to ask the little man out, all he gets in return is an adorable, shocked, nervous sur... (well, you know) look, and a simple "eh?". What the hell does that mean anyway? Just give a simple yes or no. Ludwig knew this was a stupid idea. What possessed him to ask this man out anyway? Feliciano is the goofiest of all goof balls, a klutz, a crybaby, and always so clingy.

He's so damn adorable.

"If you don't want to, I will understand," the German sighed going back to his cubical. "I just thought I ask."

The dumbfounded Italian watched Ludwig go back to his desk going through his neglected papers.

What a stupid idea. What a waste of watching countless "How to Ask Your Crush Out" videos on Youtube. They never mention what might happen if your crush was an Italian dork (and a cute one at that) whose only reply is, "Eh?" Then again, look who his crush is. A guy, and the German is a guy. He's a guy asking another guy out. On a date. An actual date. Ludwig can't blame the little Italian. He'd be speechless too. But he thought he'd give it a shot. The only thing he could say was yes or no. If it was a no, then he hope Feliciano wouldn't avoid him and that they still remain good friends. If a yes, then the German would feel like turning backflips down the aisle though the cubicals straight to his bosses office, and flip him off shouting he quit. Maybe he wouldn't go THAT far. But it would make him happy if Feliciano said yes.

What makes the Italian so special that he wanted to ask him out? When he was first introduced to Feliciano, he didn't know what to think of him. Maybe a weirdo who hugs everyone he sees. Obsessed with pasta. And what the hell is with that one curl on his hair? If anything, why doesn't he just curl every strain? What a strange man. It was a pain when Ludwig ended up training the pasta loving freak on his first day. It's one of the most simplest jobs in the world. Just make a few calls and ask the person if they are interested in having access to the Freedom Unit credit card. The first 5 seconds went okay, but it turned into bloody ears when Feliciano bawl out when the caller swore at him and threaten the Italian they'll call the police if he called again. It took Ludwig nearly 2 hours to calm the man convincing him that he's not going to prison.

Never again, the blonde thought while popping his fifth tylenol that day.

But as time went on, he's grown attached to Feliciano. He's gotten used to the Italian giving him a good morning hug, hanging out with him during lunch and sharing his Italian food. The German also gotten the Italian into eating a few vegetables and potatoes. As time went on he found Feliciano more and more adorable. Maybe even a little attractive. Alfred, one of the coworkers even joked on how they're always together.

"You might as well go on a date," he told the blushing German.

A date, huh? Why not?

And that's what he did. Having his alarm clock waking him, the German was pumped. He started his morning routine, driving straight to work, and walked to his office approaching the little man.

"Ludwig! Good morning!" The cheerful man runs towards him giving him his good morning hug.

"Feliciano," the German murmured breaking the hug, "there's something I want to ask you." The brunette's smile never faded as he looks up at the tall man.

"Yes? What is it, Ludwig?" The blonde looked down at the smiling dork and took a deep breath.

* * *

"Good morning, ma am. My name is Ludwig calling from Freedom Unit-"

-Click-

"Hello...?" The German slammed down the phone angrily for the eight time after being rudely hung up on. This is really an aggravating job. But 18 bucks an hour will change your mind right away. Right now Ludwig doesn't give a damn if it's 20 bucks an hour. This is going to be a long day. Ludwig grumbles as his dark gray color phone started to ring. With rolling of the eyes he picks up.

"Thank you for calling Freedom Unit. This is-"

"Ludwig..."

The German's bright blue eyes blinked a few times hearing the person's familiar voice.

"Feliciano?" The German said the brunette's name a little confused. He was confused because Feliciano's cubical was behind his. Why didn't the pasta boy simply come to his cubical and apeak directly to him?

"What is it Feliciano?" The German asked after recovering from his train of thought.

"Um..." The blonde can sense the brunette twirling his silly curl with his index finger over the phone. The brunette normally does that when he's shy or felt he's done something wrong. "Are you mad at me?"

This caught the blonde off guard.

Of course he's mad, but he's not mad at the Italian.

"Why would I be, Feliciano?" The German replied his eyes soften, his voice low, deep, and gentle.

"Oh."

Silence.

"Then... you're not mad?" the brunette asked once again.

The blonde chuckled, "No Feliciano."

"Oh."

Silence.

Ludwig's eyebrow twitched.

"Then... then yes."

The blonde blinked. What the hell is this?

"Yes what?" The German frowned softly.

"The date. I will go out with you."

"Oh."

Silence.

Ludwig blinked a few times. Then it hit him.

"Oh!" The German blushed and smiled. "Oh! I see! That's great! This is good!"

"Yes! So... when will it be?"

"Oh um, well..." Damn. He hasn't even picked a date yet. Ludwig held the phone in place by his shoulder while scrambling things on his desk looking for his planner. He really needs to clean his station.

"Ludwig?"

"Just a second." Got it. He goes through his schedule for this week. Luckily his Saturday is clear. "Is this Saturday okay?"

"Okay!"

The blonde smiled hearing the brunette's voice loud and clear from both the phone and behind him hearing a slight echo over the phone.

"Six o' clock?" Ludwig added.

"Sure, Ludwig!"

"Alright," the German smiled wider. "I'll pick you up."

"Okay! Goodbye, Ludwig!" Coworkers were giving them looks. The blonde was too happy to even notice.

"Goodbye," Ludwig hangs up and goes back to his work.

-Ring-

The German answered his phone.

"Thank you for calling-"

"Um, Ludwig... where are we going?"

"Oh, well..." He really never thought about that either. Luckily, pasta boy is easy when it comes to food, so there can be only one restaurant Feliciano will enjoy. "...would you like to go to Olive Garden?"

The Italian's eyes lit up. "OH! Yes!"

The blonde pulled the phone away from his ear at the brunette's loud outburst.

The coworkers continued to stare.

"I'll talk with you later."

"Bye, Ludwig!"

Ludwig hangs up and continues his work. He pauses looking up seeing a few heads poked out from other cubicles. Some with grins on their faces others with confused looks.

Ludwig's face turned pale.

**First chapter complete. I hope the one's who manage to read all the way through enjoyed it. Stick around for the next chapter. More to come! Be safe!**

**-Cry**

**OINK**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Say hi to the Author: **__Wanna know what annoys me so? That annoying book mark advertizing thing that slowly fades in when you're on fanfiction and you-_

_*fades away*_

_......_

_Welcome back!! See what I mean? Annoying as hell! Wanna know what else is annoying to me? _

_You._

_Why the hell are you reading this author note? What's wrong with you, people? Jesus Christ!!!_

_......_

_I love you. :B_

**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya**

**This FanFic is just for fun, and for people's enjoyment and pleasure... and to help save the dying bees.**

**Garlic Breath (chapter 2)**

You know that good day you get when something amazing happens and your job seems more enjoyable? That's how it felt to Ludwig. Whether he got satisfied callers, or rude callers he still felt good. And it wasn't long until 5PM welcomed the day, relieving the hard, working employees.

The German grabbed his jacket and goes over to his Italian coworker's cubicle to say his farewell. Ludwig's lips curved in a warm smile seeing the brunette shutting down his computer. The German managed to catch a glimpse of the screen. The desktop had a background of a huge bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. Ludwig cringed a bit at the sight. The oversized chunks of ground beef didn't look too appetizing. And the long strings of noodles didn't make it any better. Looking dry and stale, overflowing the pumpkin colored bowl. What a strange man.

He's so adorable.

The Italian paused from his work and looked up seeing a tall figure towering over him. His hazel eyes lit up and he broke into a huge smile.

"Ludwig!" he chirped excitedly. "You're leaving, ve?"

"Yes," the German answered sitting on the extra chair across from Feliciano's desk. "Do you need a ride home?"

"I rode my bike today. I'm okay." And when he says bike, he means, of course his state of the art blue Schwinn Windwood Cruiser. Equipt with an old, brown basket and a bell. Both the Italian and his bike are inseparable and can easily be spotted or heard. Whenever Ludwig was in the parking garage, he would hear a familiar squeaking noise echoing all across the car lot.

"_Ludwig! Good morning!" _was also heard harmonizing with that damn bell.

"Are you sure, Feliciano?" The German asked. "I'm sure your bike will fit in my car."

"I like riding my bike!" The brunette replied grinning. The Italian always turns down a person's offer on taking him back to his apartment. Feliciano enjoys riding his bike. Even when it was sunny, windy, raining, or snowing. Whenever. Regardless of having pissed off drivers blowing at him whenever he was in the way, bike riding was the closet thing that felt like home to to the Italian. That and pasta.

"Well, then," the German stands slipping his jacket on, "you can leave your bike at home. I will take us to Olive Garden this Saturday. Alright?"

"Okay!" The Italian grinned.

The German smiled warmly. "I will pick you up tomorrow night." His deep voice was so soothing to the Italian's ears.

"Six o' clock!" Feliciano replied nodding happily, his tiny curl bouncing.

"Good evening." With a small, loving smile the blonde man made his way to the elevator.

The goofy brunette waved goodbye until the elevator doors closed. He continues closing his work station a smile still on his face. Feliciano really liked the German's presence ever since he met him. He loves his hugs. He was like a warm teddy. It pleases him how Ludwig was patient with him, soothing him with his deep, gentle voice whereas the other coworkers would yell at him for messing up. Ludwig was always so nice to him. He was surprised this morning when the blonde asked him out. He didn't mean to hesitate. He just wasn't expecting this invitation. It was sudden. He was excited and nervous. He can't wait 'til tomorrow night. He's going to spend time with the two things that makes him happy the most. Ludwig and pasta.

"You two put on quite a show this morning, Mr. Feliciano."

The Italian broke free from his happy thoughts and turns seeing three familiar coworkers. The one who spoke up was Alfred. He's a friendly fellow, but can be a little selfish, especially when he wants things done his way during their monthly meetings. His love for hamburgers is his awkward passion. It's a mystery to everyone how he eats so many and not gain a single pound. And Ludwig thought the Italian's eating habits are weird. The other two that were with him are Kiku and Arthur. Kiku is a quiet Asian, but super hard at work. He spends time with Ludwig and Feliciano every once in a while. Arthur is a short temper British. 'Nuff said. But he's okay as long as he's not annoyed by Alfred and this french coworker who was recently hired. Their boss gets occasional complaints from callers after the British gets off the phone with them. Why hasn't the boss fired him yet, is still on everybody's mind.

"Alfred! Arthur! Kiku!" The Italian beamed and stood greeting each of them with a hug. One of them were used to this while another one was tensed and the other was rather annoyed having their eyes rolled without the Italian being aware. "How are you three this evening, ve?"

"We're fine, Feliciano-san. Thank you," the Japanese man answered, bowing slightly.

"We're going out for some sushi," the British spoke up. "Would you like to join us?"

"We were gonna ask Ludwig also, but I see he's already gone," Alfred said his grin never leaving his face since they approached the Italian.

"That's alright," Feliciano answered while going over to his desk to get his things. "I'm going to heat up my left over lasagna tonight."

"Be sure you save up your appetite for tomorrow," the American chuckled.

The Italian blinked in confusion. "Eh?"

My, that must be the word of the day.

"I believe," Arthur explained, "what Alfred's trying to say is be sure you don't eat too much before going to Olive Garden tomorrow."

"Oh, yes!" The brunette beamed nodding happily. "My date with Ludwig! We're going to Olive Garden!"

Kiku blinked at the Italian's behavior. Sure, he's seen him happy all the time, but this feels different to the Japanese man. He noticed the glow in Feliciano's face whenever the German was at his presence or if someone brings up his name. This made the Asian smile warmly. Even if he gets tensed from the pasta man's gentle hugs, it's good seeing Feliciano in high spirits.

"I hope you have a wonderful time, Feliciano-san," Kiku said.

"Oh, I will, ve!" The Italian chuckled. "I'm going to Olive Garden with Ludwig!"

"I believe everyone is already aware," Authur murmured, rubbing his temple.

"So..." Alfred butts in smiling, "what's in store AFTER dinner?"

"Eh?" Feliciano blinked. "After?"

"Well, surely you two have something planned after dinner. Dancing perhaps? Watching the stars? Strolling through the park? Making out?"

"Making out?"

"Kisu?" The Japanese man answered. "You mean like a goodnight kisu."

"If you're trying to say 'kiss', then yeah! That's what I mean!" The American chuckled.

"K... kiss... Ludwig?" The Italian stuttered, his soft cheeks turning a soft, pink color. He never really thought about it.

"But if you two are going to have a goodnight 'kisu'," the American said, teasing Kiku's accent when he said the word kisu, "be sure to avoid garlic when you're eating out."

"Don't eat garlic?" The Italian bit down his lower lip slightly. Most of the things on the menu had garlic in it. Kissing the German was the last thing on Feliciano's mind. He just wanted to spend time with Ludwig and share his pasta with him just like during lunch time at work. But then again, the blonde did have nice lips. How will they feel against his? Warm? Soft? Wet? Feeling the tall man's body close to his when he hugs him felt good enough for the pasta boy. But will it feel just as good feeling those lips press to his at the same time? Is avoiding Italian food really worth it?

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Feliciano-san," Kiku spoke up reassuring the Italian. "Just have a wonderful time."

"Indeed," Arthur agreed. "Honestly, why would it matter if you get a goodnight kiss? Just have fun. You shouldn't rush these things."

"Are you serious?!" Alfred cried. "What's a date without a goodnight kiss?"

"It can still be a date without a goodnight kiss!" The British cried back his accent getting stronger. "Don't give him the wrong idea!"

"I'm not giving him the wrong idea. It's not like I said that they should have sex or anything like that."

The Italian's face turned purple.

"Sex...?"

"I-it's getting late, Alfred-san," the Japanse man said coming to the rescue. "We should head out."

"Oh, right!" Alfred chuckled. "Almost forgot."

"No, you didn't," the British muttered, arms folded.

"We'll catch you next week, Feliciano," the American smiled heading towards the elevator. "And remember... no garlic!"

"But that doesn't mean you should kiss him if you don't bloody want to!" Arthur added following him.

Feliciano was still purple in the face. Then a warm hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned seeing the hand belong to the short Asian.

"Just have fun, Feliciano-san," Kiku smiled warmly. "Ludwig is a good man. He really likes you. And I know he will respect you." With that said, the Asian followed his two arguing friends in the elevator. Their badgering went on even after the elevator doors closed on them. Their voices were muffled behind the door taking them down the floors until they were no longer heard.

The Italian just stared blankly at the elevator door.

No garlic? Goodnight kiss? Sex...?

He just wanted a nice dinner with Ludwig.

Feliciano pedaled straight to the Seven Eleven store, coming out with a bag filled with spearmint gum that evening.

**And that's chapter 2. Ya like it? Ya hate it? Ya wanna say: "OMG, Cry! WTH's wrong with you! Close your account already!!"?**

**In my opinion, I don't care how good of a kisser you are. If your breath is filled with funk, (and not the good kind of funk) I'm not puckering up. Even if Reuben Langdon asked me to kiss him, I'm not going to if his breath smells like doo-doo. HELL!! If someone was dying in my arms and they asked for one last kiss, and their breath is the breeze of paper mill back in Savannah, GA, I just can't....**

**Well, you get the idea.**

**Oh! And thank you for the reviews! I was really happy when I got them this morning! And also thanks to the ones who added this story to thier favorites. It made my day! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!**

**Hope you enjoyed this one, and the next chapter to come!**

**Be safe, fanfic-ers!**

**-Cry**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Oh... it's just the Author: **__I would really like to give a huge thanks to XpyromaniacxDestiny for correcting me on a few errors I made on the first couple of chapters. After reading the chapters over, I had no idea I was doing this funny writing habit. So, I have to go back and repair them! Lol If you guys can guess what it is, I'll give you cake... chocolate cake... the one that'll give you diabetes!!! :B YUM!! But yes, lol a huge thank you to this sweet kid!_

_I'm really (some what) happy how this story is turning out. Sadly, it seems like in every fanfic or original story I write, I never finish it. But I promise I'll be sure this will be the first one I will get done! _

_I have to... _

_I must...... I must...._

_I must... I must... I must increase my bust!!_

_Sorry... had a little flash back. _

_P.E. class in junior high was a hell of a course._

**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya**

**This FanFic is just for fangirls/boys readers enjoyment and to see how far Tiger Woods can drive without hitting a single tree.**

**Garlic Breath (Chapter 3)**

Ludwig parked his car in front of Feliciano's apartment, checking himself in the rearview mirror for the 8th time. The drop dead gorgeous German looked good enough to be in a cover of a magazine. He was fancying a pine, green button down shirt with a cream color neck tie, with khaki jeans and brown leather shoes. His hair was smooth back with his favorite hair gel. He looked sensational. As he drove his way to the apartment complex, people both walking and driving turned heads, astonished by him. He feared he might have overdressed. Olive Garden wasn't the type of restaurant that cares if you wear a shirt and tie. The German frowned.

"I should have picked a better spot," he murmured to himself. "Gott, I feel cheap." While he was in the middle of coming up with a better restaurant, he was interrupted by the beeping of his wrist watch. The time was 5:45. The German arrived at the Italian's place 15 minutes ago. The German never wanted to be late for anything. Meetings. Work. Dates. Not one. Ludwig stared blankly at the steering wheel of his car. Well, this was it. It's not like he was getting married or anything, so why was he getting nervous? This was going to be a perfect evening. He was going to give the Italian the best night of his life. The German smiled softly, slowly nodding to himself.

"This will be perfect."

Ludwig turned his head out the window and looked up at the third story floor of the Italian's apartment. He took a deep breath which seems like the hundredth time tonight.

_Well... here goes... something, _he thought.

****

"Ow..." the Italian winced after spitting out his 7th piece of spearmint gum. Each time he nibbled on something he would automatically slip a stick of gum in his mouth, chewing constantly until it loses all of its flavor. His jaw was killing him. He wasn't sure which was worse: avoid any food that will give you bad breath or eating strong mint flavor candy that left a bad taste after eating something in particular. Note to self . . . soda pop and mints don't mix.

Feliciano checked his clock. It was 5:47. The German called him telling him he'll be there in 15 minutes. He quickly rushed to his closet pulling out his black neck tie. After his fourth attempt, he finally tied it, adjusting it in place. He looked at himself in the mirror. He had on a blue button down shirt.

He wanted to wear his grey shirt, but his iron didn't like it.

He also had on a simple pair of black dress pants.

He had planned to wear his khaki pants, but the dyer didn't like those.

The pasta boy made a weird noise in the back of his throat in frustration. His cheeks flushed the same color as his lips. He rubbed his cheeks to make the blushing go away, but no avail. Moving on, he fixed his hair and tried to smooth down his one curl. He stood still and watched the straighten curl. He was eyeing it like he was using powers to keep it in place. Seconds later it slowly jumped back into a curl. The Italian man sighed in defeat. A soft knock on the door made him jump. He checked the clock on his wall once again.

5:50.

"He's early..." the Italian said quietly and then yelled out across the room with his voice cracked saying, "Just a moment-ve!" Feliciano rushed to the bathroom and grabbed his mouth wash. Quickly, he chugged some, gargled, and spit in the sink. He ran to his living room and grabbed his black jacket laying on his couch and dashed over to the table right next to it. He grabbed a handful of peppermints and chewing gum. A few had slipped from his hands falling to the floor. He roughly stuffed the surviving ones in his jacket pocket. Nervously, he approached the door, taking a deep breath, and answered it. The Italian held in his breath once he saw the man before him.

Tall. Beautiful. A pair of bright blue orbs stared down at him. A warm smile. The Italian thought he died and went to heaven.

"Hello, Feliciano," the Italian heard the stunning creature say to him. His accent was so clear, so breathtaking.

"Ludwig..." The Italian replied, his voice cracked again.

Oh, dear.

Meanwhile, the German couldn't pry his eyes away from what was before him as well. He thought his date was handsome, yet adorable. Big hazel eyes. That cute curl. Mint.

...

Strong mint.

Very... very minty.

_Is that new cologne?_

"You look-a very nice, Ludwig!" the Italian broke the comforting silence. The German made a warm, deep chuckle, feeling bashful.

"Thank you."

The Italian walked over to the tall, blonde man, standing on his toes, and wrapping his arms around his waist. He paused hesitantly. The pasta lover's face was mere inches away from the German's face. He quickly recovered, turning his head to the side to rest it on Ludwig's broad chest and embraced him.

Feliciano's heart was beating rapidly. It wasn't time. They didn't even leave the apartment yet and he almost made a stupid move. The Italian had to get a grip. His heart beat increased more after inhaling the spicy cologne his date was wearing. It was a soothing smell of spices and what the Italian could make out, like a cool sensation of a mountain breeze. The Italian thought this was perfect. Olive Garden or not, he wouldn't mind if they stayed like this all night.

The German, meanwhile, caught the small man's strange gesture, but returned the embrace, staring down at the top of his head. What was that about? What was he trying to do? The German blinked.

_So... minty. _

Feliciano broke the hug half way, looking up at the German.

"I would like to go to Olive Garden," the pasta man spoke happily.

So much for a fancier restaurant. The German knew there was no point changing the Italian's mind.

Ludwig smiled, nodding. "Very well, then."

"..."

"..."

The hug was never broken.

_Minty... fresh._

The German never kept his blue eyes off the smaller one's hazel orbs.

_Could be spearmint? Peppermint maybe?_

The Italian never kept his eyes off the tall one's pink flesh.

_Warm. Moist. Soft. Pasta...? Kiss...? _

"Are you ready, Feliciano?" The German spoke up, still having the small man in his arms.

"Ah!" The Italian gasped, slowly breaking the hug completely. "Yes! Yes! We will go now!"

"Okay," Ludwig smiled. The Italian walked out the door. The tall figure was right behind, closing the door behind him.

***********

"Ludwig, party of two?"

"Feliciano, that is us," the German snapped the dazed Italian out of it.

"Oh!" Feliciano shot straight up from the bench, startling Ludwig.

"Feliciano..." the German was getting concern about the little man. On their way to the restaurant, the Italian didn't say much. He would normally talk on and on about nothing in particular. Mostly when he communicates to Ludwig or to anyone, he would talk about Italian recipes in his country. Again, nothing in particular. The whole time during the car ride, Feliciano would only open his mouth whenever the German spoke.

Something was wrong. But what was it? Just when Ludwig was about to ask what was on the pasta boy's mind...

"Mr. Ludwig?"

The German turned to the unknown voice. It was their waiter.

"How are you?" he began in a monotone voice. "My name is Shinobu Takatsuki. I'll be your waiter this evening. Please follow me."

The German frowned softly, hating the young waiter came at the wrong time. It doesn't matter. He would talk to Feliciano once they were seated.

The Italian quietly walked next to the tall blonde. Feliciano's face was flushed, fascinated by the cherry wood floor. The German went over to the young waiter asking if they could be seated to a quieter area. The waiter named Shinobu stared at the blonde blankly.

"We don't have private tables, sir," Shinobu explained, sounding really bored.

"I am aware, yes," Ludwig replied nodding. "Just where there are fewer people around, please."

"Sure."

The young waiter took the cute couple further down the restaurant. Fewer people are seated in the back. The older men quietly sat while their waiter handed each of them a menu.

"Will you be interested in any appetizers tonight?" the waiter asked. "Garlic bread sticks and soups? Perhaps salad?"

"Yes," Ludwig answered happily going through the menu. "I think... I would like the zuppa toscana soup."

"Um," the Italian spoked up for the first time since they made it to the place, "can you... what is in the salad? Vegetables?"

Both the waiter and the German blinked.

"Well..." the waiter began, "lettuce, of course. As well as tomatoes, croutons, diced carrots, onions-"

"No, please!" The Italian interrupted, panicking.

"So... you don't want the salad?" The waiter asked making a weird face.

"No, I mean... no onions... please?"

"Okay..." Shinobu pulled out a note pad and pencil from his pocket, jotting something down. "Would you be interested in sampling our wine? Our signatures are Rosso, Bianco, and Rosato."

"Hm..." the blonde man hummed, going through the menu carefully over the wine selections. "How about this Barolo? We will have that... oh." He placed the menu down, looking up at the Italian. "If this is all right with you, Feliciano."

"Okay!" The Italian said, smiling. Not only do pasta and Ludwig made him happy, but wine as well.

"Sure," the waiter scribbled more things on the pad. "I'll be right back with the soup and salad."

The German watched the young waiter leave. He noticed the unreadable expression on his face. He had trouble deciding if the boy was having a rough day or that someone ticked him off. He brushed it off and turned to his quiet date. He caught the pasta man staring. The Italian quickly looked down at his menu, hiding his blushed face.

The blonde man smiled softly.

"You can have anything you want," Ludwig told him. "I will pay for everything."

This made the Italian look up from his menu.

"But," the Italian began, worriedly, "I couldn't. I can't-"

"Feliciano, I insist. Please, I really want to."

"Uh..." The Italian blinked, looking into those pierce, blue eyes. He broke into a spell from those eyes. How could he say no with those eyes?

"Well... maybe just this once." The weak brunette finally responded.

"Wonderful!" The German said happily. "So what would you like?"

"Um, well..." Feliciano looked through the menu again for the third time. The fourth time. The fifth. "Um..."

The German chuckled, "There are so many to choose from. You can order as many as you want if you can't decide."

"But I..."

The young waiter returned with a tray with the appetizers and wine. He carefully placed it on the table and served the older men their order. He then grasped the bottle of wine, popping the cork, and poured two wine glasses.

"Have you gentlemen decided yet?" the boy asked.

"You have so many selections!" The German said, grinning.

"Might I suggest the garlic-herb chicken con broccoli? It's rosemary-seasoned chicken breasts, fresh broccoli with garlic cream sauce, over orecchiette pasta. My favorite is the chicken scampi. It's chicken breast tenderloin sauteed with...."

Behind the menu, the Italian closed his eyes, sighing dreamily as the waiter went over the specialties. His mouth was watering. This was unfair. It was torture. If he was going to give this handsome man a kiss goodnight this evening, he was going to have to avoid putting any type of bad breath forming, yet delectably tasty morsels in his mouth. Even if it was just for one night. How hard could that be? Who was the pasta boy kidding? He was going to crack. Then his eyes lit up in realization.

_My mints._

He had totally forgotten about his emergency mints he stashed away in his pocket. He was worried over nothing. The pasta lover sighed in relief. There was nothing to panic about.

_Ve... I am safe! _

The Italian grinned to himself, happily placing a hand on his pocket where he kept his...

_Eh...? _

Feliciano lightly patted his pocket which felt somewhat flatter than usual.

_Eh...?!_

Quietly panicking, he slipped his hand into his pocket and felt a cool draft on his fingers. The pasta lover looked down and turned white in the face seeing his pocket had a hole on the bottom.

_Eh???!! _

Okay, plan B. Avoid putting any type of bad breath forming, yet delectably tasty morsels in his mouth.

"Yes," the German's deep baritone voice snapped the Italian out of it. "I would have that please."

"Alright," the young waiter said jotting something down on the pad.

In unison, both Shinobu and Ludwig turned to the quiet Italian.

The Italian froze. His cheeks were the only thing that still had a color to them.

**How many fanfirls/boys in here are familiar with Junjou Romantica? If that young waiter's name sounds oddly familiar to you, than you're right! LOL I thought it'd be funny to have him on here just for fun since he's my favorite uke. Hiro-san is my second favorite uke of course. I wanted to keep him in character like in the anime/manga. And Ludwig is right. Shinobu, IS pissed at a certain someone. I wonder who it could be? *snickers* **

**How in the world is our favorite pasta loving, white flag waving Italian man gonna make it through the evening? Your guess is as good as mine. **

**Hope you'll stick around for more...**

**Be safe.**

**-Cry **


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author, Author, go away. Come again another, blah, blah, blah:**__ Hope everybody had a wonderful holiday! It was my first time in a whole year I spent Christmas with my family. That's all I wanted for this year! I hope everybody got what they wanted._

_Okay, here's the story! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it! I apologize for making this a shorter chapter. _

_**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya**_

_**This ain't mah babeh!!!**_

Garlic Breath (Chapter 4)

The Italian felt like a deer in headlights. All his mints... gone. How did he not know there was a hole in his pocket? The Italian had no chance to kiss his date now. Well maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could ask the German to take him to Seven-Eleven so he can buy more mints. But what if he would get suspicious? What if he asked him why he's buying mints? What would the Italian tell him?

"_I would like to kiss you goodnight-ve."_

Sure, that could work. Not. This night was not going as the Italian had hoped. That didn't mean he wasn't having a good time with Ludwig. He was happy to be with his tall, handsome German. But those damn mints.

_Gone. All gone. What am I to do now? My pasta. My mints. My kiss. Now what?_

"Sir?"

The Italian jumped looking up at the younger waiter who broke him out of his train of thought.

"Yes!" The pasta lover yelped.

"I said are you ready to order?"

"Um... do you..."

"Yes?" The young waiter spoked getting impatient.

"I think I'm... maybe... no..."

"Sir, if I may-"

"Could you come back later, Mr. Shinobu?" The tall blonde asked saving the day.

"Sure..." the waiter murmured, walking off.

The German turned back to the frustrating Italian. This could be a good time to ask him now while they were alone.

"Feliciano?"

"Yes?" The Italian gasped, jumping once again, looking up from his menu.

"Are you feeling alright?" The blonde asked eyes soften. "Is there something bothering you?"

"Oh! No, no, no!" The Italian chuckled while he served himself some salad. "I guess I'm just surprised that I would have this hard time deciding."

"Well," the blonde replied, going through the menu, "I know you like fettuccini Alfredo. You can start off with that."

"Um..." the small man went back over the menu while he took his fork and stabbed a few leaves. Maybe he could just stick with the appetizers. Salads wouldn't leave you with bad breath. He could just ask for a handful of those chocolate mints they served the guest after their meal, pop a few in his mouth, and be all set. The brunette brought the fork up to his mouth and looked down at it. He saw he captured some green and orange veggies which were lettuce and carrots. There was also some purple attached to his fork.

Purple? Onion. Bad.

"No! No! No!" The freaked out Italian cried dropping the fork like it was poison.

The other guests were giving the men stares.

"What's wrong?" The German cried, panicking.

"Waiter! Please!"

Shinobu quickly arrived to the table.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, sounding a little bit concerned.

"Onions!" The brunette cried pointing at the salad bowl. "In the salad!"

"I'm sorry..." the young waiter said uneasy. "I must have given yours to the wrong table... I'll fix it right away."

"Please!" The Italian was almost in tears.

Shinobu took the bowl and sent it off before the Italian bawled out some more.

The German just blinked and watched the whole time. He wondered if the man was allergic to onions. But that couldn't be it. What was going on?

"Feliciano, are you okay?" The blonde asked his date again, placing his hand on the trembling ones. The brunette calmed down feeling the warm touch. It felt so comforting.

"Oh..." The Italian looked up at the concern German. His blue eyes were making him feel at ease. The dimming of the lights made the blonde man look romantic, seductive, and kissable.

Lips. Nice and soft.

The Italian saw the man's lips moving, but wasn't sure what they're saying. They were mesmerizing to him. How they slowly parted, making O shapes and how his tongue would brush across his lower lip to get the remaining soup off. It was adorable, but sexy.

"Feliciano?"

"Yes?" The Italian yelped once again, snapping out of his trance.

"I said are you regretting... about our date?"

"What?" The hurt Italian cried, eyes widen. "No! No! No!" The brunette's head was shaking side to side, violently making his curl hit his face.

"Then what is wrong? Please tell me." The blonde's bigger hand squeezed much tighter on the smaller hand.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig. It's..."

Should he say? He shouldn't. It was too embarrassing. Was he going to laugh in his face or yell at him? He preferred his date laugh at him than yell. Then again, either one would be devastating.

"_Just have fun. Ludwig-san respects you."_

"_It can still be a date without a goodnight kiss!"_

...

What was he doing? He was making a fool of himself and embarrassing the most handsome man in the restaurant. Kiku and Arthur were right. Who cares if he was going to get a kiss or not? All that matter was he and Ludwig have fun and eat pasta!

"Feliciano... are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Ludwig asked, breaking the Italian from his train of thought once again.

The Italian looked up at him and smiled shyly.

"I'm-"

"Here's your garlic-herb chicken con broccoli, sir." Once again, the waiter returned unannounced. He had the German's dish with him. He even had a new bowl filled with salad with him placing it in front of the Italian. "And here is your salad... minus the onions."

"Thank you, Shinobu," the German replied looking down at his dish. "Everything looks prefect."

"Okay, sir. Have you decided?" The young boy asked, turning to pasta lover.

"Um..." The Italian began. "I'll get..."

Pasta! Alfredo! Pizza pie! Just have fun, eat, and be merry.

"I will have..." The Italian began again. While making up his mind, he looked up from his menu, staring at his date.

The German nodded giving him a warm smile.

Those sweet lips smiling at him.

Soft, delectable, and parted lips.

The Italian blushed and chuckled nervously.

"I think I will settle with my salad-ve!"

Rats.

"Um, F-Feliciano..." The German stammered, blinking.

The young waiter's lip quivered slightly.

"If there is nothing else, please enjoy your meal." With that said, Shinobu left quietly.

Somewhere further down the restaurant, there was a sound of a door being flung open, a startled noise, and dishes shattering.

**I used to work for the food business, and I can totally feel what waiters go though. And don't get me started on customers changing their minds on their order. It's like pulling teeth. Hyne forbid if I ever do food business again. **

**Sorry for a short chapter again! Still working on how to wrap this up. **

**Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter, happy holidays, and be safe!**

**...did I just type the word 'Hyne'?**

**-Cry**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Kill 'er! Kill the Author! : Happy late new years everyone!! Hope it was a good one for you! I've been having problems how I want this fic to turn out. So I'm gonna do it how the awesome Paine from Final Fantasy X2 would do when she's in her Gun Mage dress sphere: "Making it up as I go." **_

_**This is going to be interesting. Forgive me if this turns out awkward. **_

_**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya**__** (dun own 'em... sad face)**_

Garlic Breath (Chapter 5)

The German was halfway finished with his plate. It was very delicious. Even the presentation of the dish looked exactly like the picture off the menu. Ludwig thought the young waiter had great taste even though he acted like he didn't want to serve them. The German was definitely going to order it again on the next date. Was there going to be another date? The blonde frowned sadly. He didn't even bother bringing the subject up to the Italian on what was troubling him after the salad incident. He looked up at the brunette.

Feliciano was halfway finished with his bowl of salad. It was his second bowl. The German blinked watching him. He seemed to be enjoying his wine at least. Surely he wasn't going to eat salad all evening, the German thought. Ludwig looked down at his half-finished plate. He wondered.

"Feliciano?" The blonde spoked.

"Hm?" The Italian replied, looking up from his bowl of salad, having a little piece of lettuce stuck to his cheek.

The tall blonde lips twitched into a smile. Suddenly he threw his head back cracking up at the adorable sight.

"Eh?" Feliciano blinked looking confused. "What's so funny, Ludwig?"

The German pointed at his own chin, his deep laughter vibrating on the pasta lover's chest.

"You have lettuce on your cheek." The German answered, leaning back on the seat and holding his gut from his uncontrollable laughter.

"I do?" The pasta lover blushed, reaching for his napkin and wiping all around his mouth.

The blonde's laughter finally died down, wiping his eye. He noticed his small date staring at him pouting.

"Please forgive me," the German chuckled softly. "You look very cute."

"I am?" The brunette blushed, looking down at his salad shyly. "Thank you, Ludwig."

The German smiled in reply. Even if tonight was a little weird, it wasn't all that bad. He was here with the pasta lover tonight, enjoying his company even if he was quiet all evening. This was still perfect.

"Did I... get it all, Ludwig?"

The German looked up at his shy date and smiled. "Yes. It's all gone." Ludwig kept his eyes on the blushing creature.

Ludwig realized that Feliciano hasn't stopped blushing since he picked him up from his apartment.

Simply adorable, the German thought.

"Thank you for taking me here, Ludwig," the Italian spoked softly.

"Thank you for coming with me," the German replied, smiling. "Oh, um... Feliciano? Would you like to try this? It's very delicious." Ludwig took his fork, twirling a string of pasta around it and held it out to his date.

"Eh?" The Italian said, biting down his lower lip. It was so tempting, but...

Ludwig leaned closer bringing the fork across the table to feed the Italian. Feliciano then leaned back, covering his mouth to avoid the mouth-watering pasta.

"That's all right, Ludwig!" The pasta lover muffled behind his covered mouth. "I'm full."

"Just a small bite," the German added. "I assure you it's very good!"

"I'm sure it is... but..."

"Just one bite. That's all."

The Italian swallowed, looking down at the delicious, cheesy, mouth-watering noodle. Just one bite. It couldn't hurt. Just one...

"Just one bite?"

"You can have the rest if you like it. If you don't, I'll take the rest home with me."

The Italian hesitantly leaned forward slightly from the table. The German brought the fork over to the Italian's lips. Feliciano's mouth watered immediately as Ludwig brought the fork closer. The Italian closed his eyes and opened his mouth, feeling the steam vaporing across his parted lips. The food made contact with his tongue, and the pasta lover captured the whole noodle in his mouth. The fork retracted from his lips.

Heaven. It was pure heaven.

The brunette's jaw was still bothering him, but after his first chew, it was long forgotten. He slowly savored the pasta. It was just like he had imagined. Pure heaven.

The German, meanwhile watched his date carefully.

Feliciano was taking his sweet time. Besides, the limit was thirty bites before swallowing so you could digest the food better. The pasta lover wanted this moment to last. He made a strange soft noise in the back of his throat in mid-chew. The softness of the stringy dough, the cheesy garlic sauce melting in his mouth, and the hint of chives stuck to his teeth... this was every Italian's beautiful dream. Who would have thought avoiding Italian food for two straight hours made you feel like you've missed out on extraordinary things... like not having Italian for two straight hours making you feel like you've missed out on extraordinary things? After a huge swallow, the little Italian was hooked. That one bite did it. It wasn't enough. He wanted more... so much more.

_No, no, no! One was enough! Snap out of it! Don't give in! _

"How was it?" the Italian heard his date asked slowly.

"It was..." Feliciano began.

"Yes?" The German murmured cracking a smile.

"It... was okay..." The Italian's cheeks were flushed. He shyly looked down playing with his beige color napkin that was placed on his lap.

"I see," the German hummed, taking his fork and twirling another string of a noodle around it followed by capturing a small piece of grilled chicken. "Would you like another bite?"

"Um... I think I'm okay, ve."

"Maybe if you try it with the chicken. It tastes wonderful together."

"It does?" The Italian asked uneasily, looking up from the table.

"Just one more bite." The German held the fork out to the Italian once again, teasingly wiggling his blonde eyebrows up and down a few times followed by a wink of the eye.

"Just one more..." the Italian said to himself as he leaned forward capturing the food in his mouth. The fork retracted from his lips. The Italian took his time once again savoring the pasta and now the grill chicken.

This wasn't heaven... this was sin.

Sweet sin.

"_Delicioso_..."

"Did you enjoy it then?" The blonde asked, grinning.

The Italian looked up at his handsome date and blushed more.

Garlic breath or no, the Italian wanted more.

"Um... Ludwig?"

"Yes?"

"Could I have..." the Italian began before swallowing the remains in his mouth, "just one more? This... will be my last. Promise."

"Of course."

The Italian was feeling giddy on the inside, but he didn't dare let it show. Secretly rubbing his palms together underneath the table, he leaned forward one more time. Eyes closed, mouth parted.

The German grinned, fixing the fork once again. This was fun. Actually, it was strangely romantic to the blonde. This time Ludwig made sure the fork was completely filled with even more pasta and chicken. He was sure the Italian will definitely love this next bite. He held out the fork.

"Are you ready?" The German asked his date.

"Uh-huh!" the pasta man replied, eyes still shut, and mouth opened like a baby bird.

The German paused, staring at the brunette. He thought his goofy date was a sight for sore eyes. Disturbing as Feliciano looked, Ludwig couldn't help but wanting to place a hand underneath his chin and just... and just...

Just now, the German couldn't help but noticed how sweet and nice the Italian's lips looked. How soft, moist, and pink they were. How glossy they looked when the dim light hit them. The German thought his date was adorable, but he never realized how gorgeous he was or how beautiful.

"Ahhh..." he heard his date say, his mouth opened wider, sounding impatient and excited.

Ludwig wasn't sure what was coming over him, but he couldn't pass up on this chance. Quietly, he placed the fork down, placing one of his palms on the table, and leaned his head forward hesitantly toward Feliciano.

The pasta lover waited excitedly on his next bite of Ludwig's dish. He didn't care if he wasn't going to get that kiss tonight. There would be more kisses. Getting fed by his handsome blonde date was good enough to make this night magical. That is, if that moment would get here already. The Italian's neck was straining from leaning over for so long. What was Ludwig doing? The Italian froze as he felt something warm cupping his chin, warm air blowing on his face, and something which felt like a thumb gently brushing across his lower lip. The hungry Italian eyes popped open finding Ludwig's face inches away from his face. His eyes were closed, his expression looking passionate. His lips were parted slightly, and they were slowly approaching the Italian's now trembling ones.

Feliciano panicked.

The other guests got their share of entertainment once again as they watched a small man yelped by surprised, leaped at least a foot into the air, made a stumbling landing, and falling to the floor landing on his butt. To top it all, a glass of wine tipped over splattering on the Italian's shirt.

Magical.

**I had more added on here, but I decided to stop it here for now and try to make six the final chapter *fingers crosses* Sorry if it's too short again. I just thought it was a good stopping spot. I hope you guys liked this random chapter I came up with! LOL **

**Thank you guys again for checking out this story! Be safe!!**

**-Cry**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Author is a lie: Well, I didn't really lie. I never really said this was going to be the last chapter....... wait. *goes back to the previous chapter* Ah-hah! Here! According to the bottom of my note from chapter 5, I said I would "try" to make this my last chapter. "Try" is such a weak word, ya know?**

**.....**

**YOU KNOW WHAT!??**

**F*** YA'LL!!!**

**.....**

**Eye Heartz U! .3.**

**3**

**3**

**3**

_**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya (Himaruya-sensei... marry me so I can get 10%)**_

Garlic Breath (Chapter 6... which isn't the final chapter)

********

"Feliciano!" The German cried helping his dumbfounded date up off the floor with a towel at hand. He desperately tried to soak up as much wine as he could off the small man. "I'm sorry! I am so sorry!"

"Eh..." the Italian replied looking dazed, trying to figure out what just happened.

"Are you all right?" The German sat the drenched Italian back down on his chair. "I'm so sorry... I... I didn't mean..."

The pasta lover looked up at his date. He saw the German had guilt and hurt in his blue eyes.

"Feliciano, tell me that you're all right!"

"Y... yeah. I think so." The brunette looked down at his back up shirt now stained with wine. He still heard his date apologizing continuously. Feliciano then blinked, blushing softly, coming to a realization on what just happened... or what almost happened.

_Was Ludwig about to..._

"Is everything all right here gentlemen?"

Both men looked up hearing a new voice approaching them. With his strong accent he sounded Persian. It was a young man who looked no older than Ludwig, wearing a nice dark suit with a red tie along with a red apron tied around his waist. It was obvious to Ludwig that this good looking gentleman was the manager. Standing next to him was their young waiter looking a little energized than usual. Once he saw the mess, he quickly gathered the dishes, wiping the table, clean, and clearing out everything in sight. It was also obvious to Ludwig that Shinobu was only this way because of the boss being there.

"Um..." The German began, standing up handing the Italian his towel so he could finish drying himself. "Sorry for the commotion. My date and I... made a little accident. I'm truly sorry."

"It's quite all right," the manager chuckled, holding up his hand. "I saw the whole thing on my way over here." He turns to the Italian placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Uh... yes. I'm sorry" The brunette answered, then turns to his date. "I'm really sorry."

The German stared down at his date, eyes soften worriedly.

"It's okay," the handsome boss smiled warmly squeezing his shoulder for comfort. "Is there anything we can do for your inconvenience?"

"No. It's okay. I think I've caused enough trouble for everyone-ve." The pasta lover looked down at the floor, feeling just awful and quite embarrassed.

"Feliciano..." The blonde spoked. "It's not..."

"We all have our off moments, sir," the man cut in. "There's nothing to feel upset about."

"But I..."

"We aren't going to sue you, my friend," the handsome man laughed, his hand now placed on the Italian's trembling ones.

Ludwig's teeth were clenched tight.

"Are you sure there will be nothing else... Mr. Felicia no, was it?"

The Italian nodded. "Yes."

"We'll just be needing our bill... please," the German interrupted, sounding cold.

The manager stared at the blonde, smiling gently. He pulled his hand away from the quiet Italian's.

"I hope you gentlemen will enjoy the rest of your evening," the handsome man said. "Mr. Shinobu will return with your bill. Have a wonderful evening." With a friendly smile for the Italian and a mocking one for the German, the manager walked away.

The Italian stood placing the towel on the table.

"I'm going to the restroom," the brunette said before excusing himself.

The blonde was going to stop him, but Shinobu came from nowhere, handing him his bill.

"Will that be all for tonight, sir?" the young waiter asked in a monotone voice. It appeared that the boy was back to normal now that his boss was no longer at their presence.

"Yes," the German answered sighing in defeat. He pulled out his wallet and pulled out his Freedom Unit credit card. "That will be all, Shinobu. Thank you."

The young waiter looked up at the blonde frowning softly.

"Maybe..." the boy hesitantly began.

"Pardon me?" Ludwig replied handing him the bill with the card.

"Maybe... he's nervous. Or you took him by surprise." Shinobu was thinking about stopping there, but he automatically continued. "I know it's probably none of my business, but if you like someone, do all you can to have them in your life. If he's the one for you, then... it's destiny."

The German blinked, looking down at the wise boy.

Shinobu just stood there, staring blankly at the bill in his hand. He was deep in thought and his cheeks slowly turned pink. He then snapped out of it, clearing his throat.

"I'll be back with your card and receipt."

The German watched the waiter walking off.

"_It's destiny..."_

Ludwig thought about what the boy said. He really liked Felicia no. Making that silly move probably wasn't very smart. If that Italian had to choose between getting a kiss from the German and eating pasta, then he wouldn't be surprised if he lost over a plate full of dough. He only hoped this night doesn't have his friend uncomfortable around him now. Even if it would take forever, Ludwig would do all he could to be with Feliciano.

"Gott, I really messed up."

But first, confidence was at stake.

*************

"So frustrating! So frustrating!" A half naked brunette desperately groaned in the restroom. Feliciano leaned over the sink, scrubbing his shirt with warm water and antibacterial soap. He scrubbed with all his might, but the wine stain wasn't going anywhere until he takes it to the cleaners. Giving up, he went over to the hand dryer and set his shirt underneath the blower. The Italian couldn't believe what just happened. He was mad at himself for being such a klutz. A goof ball. And not only that...

"Ludwig... he almost..." he murmured to himself. The pasta lover's cheeks turned red. His date was going to kiss him, and he freaked out. That was probably his only chance to get that kiss, and he wussed out. He didn't care if his breath might have smelled bad anymore, but sadly that kiss wasn't going to happen now. The Italian sighed sadly, reaching out to turn the hand dyer back on. He screwed this night up for both of them, and he may never have this chance again. What if Ludwig would never ask him out again? What if he didn't want to have lunch breaks with him anymore or make him give warm, good morning hugs?

"So frustrating..." The Italian said sadly, almost in tears. The hand dryer caught his attention when it cut off once again. He whipped his shirt a few times before slipping it back on. The Italian sighed while tucking his shirt back in his pants to fix them. He turned to the mirror seeing his shirt with dry, stained spots of wine. He took one more sigh before he heads toward the door, but he quickly jumped back falling on his rear end after he almost had his face smashed in when the door flung open.

"Feliciano!" A familiar voice cried. That warm, deep, and comforting voice.

The Italian blinked when he was being helped up off the floor. Looking up, he saw his savior German staring down at him with a concern look still in his blue eyes. The pasta lover looked back down, hating to see his date this way.

"I'm sorry-ve..." Feliciano murmured.

"What for?" The German asked, confused. "I nearly hit you when I came in. I should say sorry, Feliciano."

The Italian kept quiet, still staring at the red tile floor. It was interesting how they were perfectly placed in a neat row. The hardened cement still shown from the cracks seems to add a nice touch to it. It was funny how the cement looked darker. It was normally a greyish color. Maybe it was more like an alabaster color. The Italian wondered what kind of other kind of gluey substance can be used to hold things together.

"Feliciano?"

"Huh?" The Italian looked up seeing his date was still staring down at him looking worried.

"I said are you ready to go?" Ludwig asked slowly. He still had his hands placed on the small man's shoulders keeping him in place. Maybe he wanted to make sure the pasta lover doesn't trip, or run off? Ludwig wasn't sure, but he did notice his date's face wincing a bit. Realizing he was grasping him too tight, he loosens his grip. The German sometimes didn't know his own strength. He looked down at his small date apologetically.

"I am ready-ve," Feliciano finally answered.

"Very well."

"..."

"..."

"I'm okay, Ludwig. We can go."

"Alright," the German said softly, feeling the urge to crawl under a rock and sulk until Hell freezes over.

The two gentlemen went back to their tables to get their jackets. Their young waiter was waiting with the German's card and receipt in hand.

"Thank you for hospitality, Mr. Shinobu," the German said, taking the check and pen from the boy signing it.

"It was my pleasure serving you gentlemen," the waiter replied. Weird thing was when he said that, it actually sounded sincere and meaningful.

The waiter stood silently waiting for the German to finish signing the merchant copy. He secretly glanced at the quiet Italian. He was watching him slip his jacket on. The boy was trying to figure out what it was the tall blonde saw in him. After witnessing his calamities this evening, he figured the pasta lover was a klutz, a dork, and so damn annoying. The young waiter frowned, remembering a certain someone called him annoying once. Shinobu cheeks turned slightly pink. He figured love comes in all shape and sizes.

And trials and errors.

"Here you are."

The boy broke from his train of thought, seeing the German handing him his receipt.

"Oh," Shinobu said, blinking and taking the small piece of paper. "Thank you."

"No. Thank you."

With that said, the German place a warm hand on his date's shoulder leaving the table together. As they pass the young waiter, the German gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder of thanks and apologies for the trouble they might have caused him.

Shinobu watched them until they were no longer in sight. He exhaled tiredly, his breath making his bangs on his forehead flutter in the air. What a night, he thought. He walked over to the register to put the receipt away. As he pressed a few buttons on the touch screen, he looked down at the paper to get the amount.

He paused.

_Tip Amount: $200.00 _

And underneath was a little note that reads: _Thank you for the advice. Smile more and I'll double the amount next time! -Ludwig_

The young waiter's cheeks were hurting him the rest of the evening, and he couldn't figure out why.

********

It was a quiet ride back to Feliciano's apartment and a little uncomfortable. The only thing that was heard was the classical music on Ludwig's favorite radio station. The blonde occasionally took a quick glimpse to see how his passenger was doing.

The Italian was staring blankly out the window, fogging the glass each time he breathes out from his nose. Ludwig could see the devastated look on Feliciano's face from the reflection of the window. The blonde quietly sighed and turned back to his driving. Minutes later they arrived at the Italian's apartment. The German was the first to get out of the vehicle. The Italian slowly got out and looks up seeing the German waiting for him on his side of the car door.

The German smiled gently, holding out a hand.

"Eh..." the Italian blinked, closed the car door, and hesitantly went over taking his hand. He turned into mush feeling the German's warm hand squeezing his small hand firmly, walking them to his apartment. The pasta lover never realized how big and strong they were.

Once they made it to the door they both stopped in unison, staring silently at the golden numbers on the door that reads 589(*).

The German turned to his small date.

The Italian blinked and turned his head, looking straight up at the tall giant. Gosh, was he tall.

The German just stared silently at him, having a lot on his mind on what happened tonight, and the day before when he asked him out. Ludwig couldn't help but to laugh out.

The Italian looked up at him dumbfounded.

The blonde's laughter died down, followed by a quick chuckle.

"This has been some night, yes?" He asked the adorable brunette.

"Mm..." the Italian replied looking down shyly, taking his curly hair between his fingers and twisting it. His cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry, Ludwig."

"Stop saying that, Felici-"

"Well I am!"

The German was taken back by the small man's out burst.

"Feliciano..."

"I'm sorry this night didn't go as you had hoped. I have ruined everything!"

"No, you haven't." The German placed his hands on the Italian's shoulders. "Feliciano, even after everything that has happened, I still had a wonderful time because I'm with you."

The Italian sniffed a little looking up at his date, his tears starting to fall.

The German's heart shattered at the sight. Ludwig didn't want this. He wanted to see the little Italian leave with a crooked smile on his face like he always does.

"Ve... I had a wonderful time with you too..." the pasta man replied, sniffing, "...but... but..."

The German lifted an eyebrow.

"But?" He asked, wanting the brunette to continue.

"I... I embarrassed myself in front of everyone-ve! There's a hole in my pocket, my jaw hurts, I ruined two of my favorite shirts in one night, and I made you look like a fool. I'm a walking disaster, Ludwig! I promise next week at work, I'll make you the best pasta if you're not embarrassed to hang out with me! Promise..."

The Italian was rambling on.

"Feliciano!" The German cried shaking the crying Italian. This reminded Ludwig back at the job. Feliciano would freak out, and it took the heroic German hours to calm the man down. "Feliciano, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about. I'm still going to hang out with you. I really like you, and...." The German paused. "Wait... why does your jaw hurt?"

"I chewed seven packs of gum today," the Italian answered hiccuping.

"Seven packs?!" The German cried, eyes popped opened wider than silver plates. This solved the mystery of why Feliciano smells so minty today. "Feliciano, why were you chewing so much gum?"

"I was..." the Italian began looking up through his tears. "I thought we..."

"Hm?" The German blinked, feeling a bit more impatient than concern.

The Italian just stared at him with tears in his eyes. Ludwig was too gorgeous and beautiful to spend time with a pasta loving dork like himself. Why did he like hanging around him? The Italian wasn't a quick thinker like Alfred, aggressive like Arthur, or a hard worker like Kiku. Feliciano couldn't even use the fax machine without the German's help. The Italian thought the German deserved better. He should be with a smart, easygoing, and graceful person. Not Feliciano.

"I'm sorry..."

"Feliciano," the German began, frowning. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what was going on, and why the brunette was acting weird all evening. "I'm not a mind reader. If something is troubling you, I would like to know. Let me help you."

"I can't... I have to go. I'm... I'm sorry, Ludwig." The Italian broke free from the German's hold. He turned his heel to the door, pulling his key out from his pants pocket, and clumsily slipped it through the key slot, trying desperately to unlock the door. The tears that were forming in his eyes were making it harder, leaving his vision blurry.

"Feliciano," the German cried. The Italian's name was all that left his lips. He was at a lost for words.

Succeeding, the crying brunette finally managed to unlock the door, hurrying inside.

"Feliciano!"

The door was quietly closed on the German face.

The German stared blankly at the door soaking up on what just happened. What DID just happen? He held up a fist toward the door, getting ready to knock, but he paused. He didn't want to make it worse even though he's done nothing wrong. Has he? Ludwig sighed, pulling his fist away from the door and pressed it hard against his forehead in frustration.

"Gott... dammit," he swore.

The German took one last look at the door before he turned and walked back downstairs. He pulled his car keys out his jacket pocket, slowly walking to his car. This was not how tonight was suppose to turn out. This couldn't be how tonight was suppose to end. His plan was to pick up his date with his goofy smile planted on his face, and take him back to his home with his goofy smile still at tow. Point A to point B was supposed to be simple like that. Somehow point A ran smack dab in the middle of point WTF.

"Gott-dammit!" the German cursed silently to himself and other colorful words in German. He held out a small remote attached to his car keys and roughly pressed the button turning off the car alarm. "Gott-dammit..."

The German couldn't wait to get a hold of the six pack of Heineken beer and drink himself to sleep tonight.

Ludwig went up to his car door. Just as he was about to pull the car handle, something was pressed hard and forcefully against his back. The German blinked, but the frown never left his face. He kept still and looked at the car window and saw the reflection of himself and another person behind him who looked no taller than Feliciano. The stranger was wearing a ski mask holding a gun directly at the back of the German's head.

Perfect. Just perfect.

**0.o **

**Are you guys mad at me...? I'm sorry! T0T **

**Somehow when I was writing this, I didn't now what came over me, and I ended up having more pages than I had planned. Lucky chapter 7 WILL be the last one... I promise... *eye twitches* **

**Hey! CryHOg! What the hell's up with that star sign (*)?**

**Why, I'm glad you asked. I guess you can say, it's what we call subliminal messages(???). Let check it out! :D**

**1) **_Once they made it to the door they both stopped in unison, staring silently at the golden numbers on the door that reads 589(*)._** (Ah, yes... 589. If you fangurls/boys are huge fans of DISSIDA- Squall(8), Bartz(5), and Zidane(9) happens to be my second favorite yaoi pairingz =3= GET IT? LOL)**

**Be safe!!**

**-Cry **


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hey, Author! What are you up to? : **__Oh, nothing... just typing this author note while watching cage boxing. It's so exciting and such a thrilling sport to me. And the babes holding the round signs are uber hawt! Nice curves, cute flirtatious smiles, ass..._

_Ah, Spike TV... the station that gives everyone a bone-_

_*Advertising book mark fades in*_

_**Axis Powers-Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya (Okay, okay... we'll make it 9%, but that's my final offer... I'll even let you keep all your life size dolfies!) **_

Garlic Breath (Chapter 7-FINAL)

********

"I had a long day, sir," the German said calmly, his hand still holding the car door handle. "I have no money."

"Don' give me dat shit," the ski mask person hissed, pressing the gun more forcefully against the back of the German's head. "Yo' ride... don' y'know wha you be grillin' on, son?"

"Yes," the German answered calmly, but wasn't really positive on what the hell the robber just asked him.

"Well, den... dat's wassup! You musta got sumthin'. Nah, giv it up."

"No."

The ski mask person blinked, then frowned nodding.

"Ah, I see. I see. Gotta Rus'an up in 'ere thinkin' he's hip in Amer'ca, huh?"

"I'm German, you half talking, uneducated bastard."

"Bitch, I ain't gonna say it no mo'," the robber warned, making the gun click. "If you ain't got no money, give me yo' car den!"

The German turned his whole body to the robber with a look that only Satan would love.

The robber backed away a bit, turning pale.

"No," the German answered, his voice deeper sounding demanding.

"L... l-look 'ere, man..." the robber stuttered, the gun in his hand trembling slightly, "E-either we... either we do dis da easy way or da har-"

"EASY?!" The German bellowed out, making the robber jump and fall flat on his ass. The German angrily walked over to him.

"Ho'd up! Ho'd up!" The robber shriek trying to crawl away, but was caught by the back of his collar, roughly pulled up off the ground. The robber froze, staring face to face at his "victim," while his feet were dangling 8cm (*) off the ground.

"YOU WANT THINGS TO BE FUCKING EASY?!" The German screamed in his face, not caring if he was spitting on him. "GET A REAL JOB!" With that said, the German violently threw the freaked out robber on the ground.

The robber landed on his back with a loud thud. He stumbled, getting up, and clumsily ran off, taking his now soaked baggy jeans with him.

The German watched the robber take off as he adjusted his tie before opening his car door and casually got in. He closed the door and stared at the steering wheel of his car. Well, that was one problem solved. Now, where was he?

Ludwig's brain felt like it could explode as he tried thinking back to what went wrong during their date. The Italian was already acting weird when he first picked him up. He acted different when he first hugged him at the door, being quiet the whole time, and now this. Something was off. And the things he told him before he closed the door on him...

"Seven packs...?" The German asked himself, still not believing it. "Gott, he's strange..."

The German looked up his date's apartment window. Seconds later, the lights from the inside were turned off. The German sighed.

"Strange... yet adorable." Ludwig started the car and backed out in the drive way. The German turned the volume on his radio. The song _Oh Fortuna _came on. Tonight, Ludwig didn't feel like he had good fortune. His date closed the door on his face for no reason. He got held at gun point, and the worst part of all... he never got a good night kiss. Not even a damn, annoying hug from the dorky Italian. That wasn't his Feliciano at all. The German suddenly caught a whiff of something minty in the car. Well, this was great. It felt as though the crazy Italian was still in the car with him. Ludwig frowned slightly. His whole car reeked of mints. It was driving the German insane. He cranked the volume of the radio higher and cracked open his window to focus. The fresh air cleared his mind and the strong mint smell in the car. He came across a stop light in the middle of the nearly empty highway. He gently pressed down the break pedal, coming to a complete stop. The tall blonde took a deep breath, leaning back on his car seat, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. His best part of the song was coming up. He really loved this part of the song. Just as the choir's voices slowly crescendoed, for some strange reason, the song had some weird jingle. It was an annoying beeping noise. It sounded like a melody from...

The German opened his eyes lifting an eyebrow. What was the name of that song? It felt so familiar. He would hear Feliciano sing it all the time...

'_O sole mio_

_Sta 'nfronte a te!_

The German turned off the radio, hearing the jungle better now. It was definitely that damn song that Italian would sing all the time in his cubical at work. The blonde turned to the passenger side seeing a blue light flashing on the car seat. It was Feliciano's cell phone, no doubt about it. The German took a quick glimpse at the red traffic light as he reached over grabbing the phone. He looked down at the 10 missed calls. All of them were from a person named Romano.

"Romano... Romano," the German thought out loud. He then remembered Feliciano telling him that he had an older brother by that name. He was thinking about turning around and giving the phone back to the Italian, but decided to wait until tomorrow and give the small man a call when he's calmed down. The German's head shot up when he heard a car blowing loudly behind him. The traffic light was now green. The blonde frowned at the car behind him and turned back to the steering wheel driving off. He looked back down at the phone in his hand. He rolled his eyes and reached over placing the phone back on the passenger seat. When he placed the phone down on the cushion, he heard some rustling sounds. The German blinked taking a quick glance at the passenger seat. It was too dark in the car to see what it was. Ludwig reached a hand out on the car ceiling, switching on the car light. He tried concentrating on driving while quickly glancing his eyes down at the car seat.

The German lifted a blonde eyebrow.

"What the hell are..."

Mints. Spearmint gum. Breath mints. All scattered in a pile on the passenger's seat.

"Mints... mints... mints...?"

Yes. Mints.

"_Feliciano, why were you chewing so much gum?"_

"_I was... I thought we..."_

The German turned his eyes back on the road, blinking constantly.

"Mints...?"

The German had put two and two together. It all made since, now. That silly pasta man was looking forward to kissing him just as badly as he was. And he was wanting to prepare himself. No wonder he wasn't eating anything. The German's lips started to quiver, then he made a huge roar of laughter. He nearly ran off the road a few times because of his uncontrollable laugh.

What an adorable dork, he thought.

********

Feliciano came out the bathroom after washing his face. He looked over at his window from across the room. Sniffing, he went over to his lamp and turned it off before going over to the window and cracked open his curtain just enough to take a peek outside. He watched as the German started his car and drove off. The Italian breathed out a shaky sigh and walked back over to his bed room, removing his stained shirt. He held out the stained shirt looking at it with disgust.

The Italian couldn't get over what happened tonight. This whole night was a nightmare. Then again, it wasn't so bad. He was with Ludwig. He embarrassed the hunk several times, acted like a chicken with its head cut off when he saw onions in his salad, and closed the door in his face at the end of the night. The Italian whined sadly his arms flopped down to his sides. He was still holding the shirt in his right hand. He finally dropped it carelessly on the floor and went over to his bed to get his jacket. He reached into his pocket to fetch his cell phone. It was empty. He reached into the other pocket that had a hole in it.

"Nhhhh..." he whimpered. It was the same pocket he kept the phone in along with the mints. "Ehh... what if my brother was trying to get me? He's going to be so mad at me." The Italian went over to the night stand where he kept his cordless house phone. He picked it up and dialed his older brother's cell phone. After a half ring, it was immediately answered.

"Feliciano? Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! I've been trying to call you all night! What is-a going on out there?!"

The Italian pulled the phone away from his ear to avoid getting an ear bleed from his older brother's out burst. He whimpered a bit as he sat on his bed.

"Romano, please," the younger Italian spoked softly. "I'm okay-ve. I was out with a friend tonight. I think I lost my cell phone."

"How could you-a lose your cell phone, brother?" Romano cried out once more. "You keep it with you at all times!"

"Ehh! I'm sorry! So sorry!"

"Didn't I tell you to stop saying sorry? You need to be a man, Feliciano!"

"I'm sorry!"

The older Italian sighed though the phone.

"You're my brother, Feli," the older Italian said gently. "You're the only family I've-a got. I worry about you down there in America."

"I know, brother," Feliciano replied quietly slipping his free hand into his holed pocket, wiggling his fingers through the hole. "I just wanted to show you that I can be a man. That I can handle myself and be independent-ve."

"And you can still do that if you wish to come back home, little brother."

"Mm..." the young Italian replied. He pulled his hand away from the torn pocket and reach up twisting his curl between his fingers. He could tell his older brother was doing the same over the phone whenever they had a silent moment like now.

Romano was Feliciano's older twin brother. Though they looked the same and had a passion for pasta, they're both different. Romano was the strongest in the family and would kill anyone if someone ever harmed his only living relative. He was always there for Feliciano and made sure the unalert goof made the right choices. Feliciano was used to his brother's behavior when they were much younger. As the two grew older, the younger blood grew tired of the older one bossing him around. Feliciano wanted to do things on his own. He wanted to make his own decisions. He wanted to just get away from it all.

The older Italian was crushed when his younger blood told him he decided to move to America. The older brother tried coming up with many excuses and schemes to keep the young one from going. Feliciano's mind was made up. The younger Italian offered to have Romano come with him. The older Italian declined. Romano didn't speak to Feliciano for a month after he moved to America. The older Italian learned to give in on his younger bother's choices and support him in anyway. Sometimes.

"How was your night with your friend?" The older one asked. For some reason saying the word "friend" left a bad taste in Romano's mouth. The older blood was always there to make sure his younger one made good friends; the ones who were trustworthy, didn't take advantage of him, and didn't hurt Feliciano's feelings. If not, Romano would make them pay. The younger Italian didn't have many friends back home.

"It was wonderful-ve," the younger Italian lied a little.

"Were they nice to you? They did not use you for your money have they?"

"Romanooooo," the younger Italian whined.

"Feliciano, I just want to know. You cannot trust people these days."

"But Ludwig is a nice person-ve!" the younger blood objected. "He paid for dinner and everything. There are nice people here just like back home."

"Ludwig..." the older brother said uneasy. "Is that a man's name?"

"Ehhhh..."

"Were you on some kind of... date with this man?"

"Ehhhh...?"

Feliciano wished he hadn't paid for the phone bill this month.

"Feli... I'm not trying to play mama, and I'm not calling to tell you what to do. But I-click- too mu-click- just-a c-click-"

"Eh?" the young Italian blinked. "Romano, there's clicking noises. I think someone's trying to call me."

Romano sighed again in reply.

"Answer it. I'll talk with you tomorrow."

"Okay. Goodnight, Romano."

"Goodnight, little brother."

Feliciano looked down at the caller ID to see who was calling him. His eyes sadden to see the familiar number.

"Ludwig..."

The pasta lover wanted to talk to him, but he didn't want to. The phone made a loud ring, startling the Italian. He looked down seeing Ludwig's number flashed on the ID once again. The Italian did nothing but stared down at it letting it ring until it stopped after the seventh ring. He couldn't talk to him now. He didn't want to see him now. How was he supposed to avoid him at work Monday morning?

"Ludwig... I'm sorry."

The Italian looked down at the phone once more. He pressed the history menu to see what all calls he missed. He went to Ludwig's number again, studying the digits. It didn't matter. He knew his number by heart; his cell phone, his house phone, even his cubical phone at work. Most people didn't worry about memorizing their friends', co-workers', or family members' number thanks to the power of the cell phone's address book. Just click the speed dial and presto! But if someone lost, misplaced, or got their phone stolen even, how will they get in contact with anybody? Without technology, cell phone callers would be worthless. Feliciano on the other hand memorized everyone's numbers. He knew them all from the back of his hand. Especially Ludwig's. The Italian's heart would pound uncontrollably and feel tingly all over everytime he sees one of the German's phone numbers flashing on his phone. Hearing the man's deep voice on the other end of the phone calmed him and made Feliciano feel warm. He couldn't explain the feeling he had when he was near the tall and handsome creature.

The Italian watched as the blue light highlighting the German's number on the phone died out. He pressed a random button making the light come back on. He was crazy about that man, but he knew he'll probably never have him. The Italian's cheeks turned pink as he for some reason lean his head down, closed his eyes, and press his lips on the highlighted phone number. It was a strange gesture, but kissing a phone with Ludwig's phone number on it was probably the closest kiss he'll ever get from him.

How sad.

The Italian placed the phone back on the receiver and plopped on the soft bed flat on his bare back, staring at the ceiling. His cheeks were still flushed pink. He sighed and turned to his side, taking a pillow, and wrapping his arms around it tightly. Feliciano closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep.

********

"You idiot! Get on your side of the road!" An angry driver yelled out the window blowing angrily at a person riding their bike.

Feliciano paid the person no mind and turned the corner making it to the gate entrance of his job safe and sound. He couldn't help but to realize that divers on Mondays were at their worse. He passed the security guard waving good morning to him and pedaled inside the first floor of the parking garage. He pulled his chains and combination lock out from his basket and locked his bike secured on a nearby bike parking. He pulled out his briefcase and headed toward the elevator. The Italian was feeling somewhat better today. Yesterday Ludwig was blowing up his phone constantly every two or three hours, and later that evening the German came over knocking on his door begging the Italian to open up so he could talk to him. The pasta lover found it hard to believe that he managed to avoid the German all day yesterday. He just needed to figure out how he can keep from talking to him at work. He was still not ready to face him yet. Feliciano swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat as he pressed the arrow button that was pointing upwards.

"Frustrating..." he whined to himself.

_Bing_

The Italian looked up hearing the elevator doors opening. He bit down his lower lip and walked inside. He turned to the buttons, reaching over pressing the 15th floor. He stepped back, facing the doors which were now closing. Just when the Italian could only see a tiny crack of the parking garage, a huge hand poked out grasping one of the doors.

The Italian jumped, gasping.

The doors automatically opened back up letting the person inside.

Feliciano's face paled.

An out of breath Ludwig came in, looking ravishingly handsome. His blonde hair was slicked back just like from their date, wearing a white button down shirt with a red tie, brown slacks, and brown leather shoes. He had his suit case in one hand and his matching jacket tucked underneath his arm. His blue eyes trailed over, seeing he had company.

"Feliciano," the German spoke gently.

The Italian held in his breath. He was frozen in place.

"I have been trying to get you all day yesterday."

"..."

"I wanted to talk to you about the other night."

"..."

"Feliciano, please say something."

The Italian looked down at his feet, not knowing what to say.

"Feliciano, are you going to ignore me forever?"

"..."

"I have your cell phone."

"..."

"I also found your mints in the passenger seat..."

"!!"

"You were acting weird that night because you were afraid you were going to have bad breath... if we kissed..."

The Italian's throat went dry all of a sudden.

"Feliciano... I really wanted to kiss you that night... did you not feel the same way?"

"I..." the Italian began.

The German looked down at him waiting for his response.

"I..." the Italian repeated.

This was awkward. It was embarrassing. He couldn't do this. Feliciano wasn't ready.

"I-I left my lunch in my basket..." the Italian murmured as he brushed passed the German. The Italian only managed to take one step out the door before something hard grasped his arm, yanking him back inside the elevator, and roughly pinned him hard against the wall. The Italian yelped loudly from the impact. Briefcases hit the floor having one of them popped open with papers and important documents wasting out.

Feliciano trembled and winced painfully, looking up to see Ludwig towering over him, his angry blue eyes staring down at him. The Italian never saw him this angry before. If looks could kill, Feliciano hoped it would be a quick and painless death. The furious German had the Italian's upper arms in a tight grip. The pressure was so tight. Feliciano was sure it would leave a bruise.

"L-L-Lu..." was all the shaken up Italian could get out.

"Shut up!" the German snapped.

The frightened Italian was trying desperately to break free from the strong man's tight and painful grasp, but he suddenly froze, feeling something soft and warm press against his lips ever so gently. The Italian's eyes were opened, seeing the German's eyes closed, his eyelashes looking longer from a tilted angle.

The German was kissing him deeply and passionately. Feliciano's face was beet red, his whole body felt like it would combust from this simple kiss. Did it feel like this all the time, the Italian wondered. Giving in, the Italian finally responded to the kiss, eyes fluttered closed, and a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. The Italian's kiss was very clumsy, but both the pasta lover and the blonde giant couldn't care less at the moment.

Seeing that the brunette was responding, Ludwig had deepened the kiss, playfully nibbling Feliciano's bottom lip occasionally, then finally brushing his tongue across the small man's lips wanting to explore inside. The Italian gasped feeling the wetness, making it a good opportunity for the German's hungry tongue to take the plunge. Feliciano muffled out a startled moan as the German's hot tongue slipped inside his mouth exploring the cave. It felt weird and strange to the Italian, but it was the German's tongue. So it felt right. He would shiver whenever he felt Ludwig's tongue bump against his shy tongue. He gasped once more when he felt the German pulling away, out of breath. The Italian was panting as well face flushed, in a daze. Feliciano looked up seeing the German staring back at him. His blue eyes were softened now, with a flushed and unreadable face. At least he didn't look mad anymore to the Italian. The blonde loosens his tight grip on the Italian arms slightly but didn't let him go.

"I refuse..." Ludwig began still catching his breath. "I refuse to be ignored, and I sure as hell refuse to get my emotions played, Feliciano. I like being around you. No matter how many times you screw things up at work or off work, I somehow end up liking you more because of your clumsiness. No matter how many cases of beer I drink to get you off my mind, you are still there. I'm still trying to figure out what it is I see in you, how, and why did you get into my life. Your hugs annoy the living hell out of me, but I always look forward to them everyday! It's hard for me to keep a straight face when you do the cutest things, and I know you are not doing them purposely. And when I see you cry it tears me apart because I'm not used to seeing you that way. That day when I asked you out I wanted to see just how bad I was falling for you. And when I almost kissed you... I knew then... I knew I wanted to be with you. I like you, Feliciano. I always have. Always will."

"Ludwig..." the Italian replied, blushing and his heart fluttering. It felt good hearing the German say that. It made him happy. He never felt so happy... so alive. He looked up at the German putting on his goofy smiles.

The German smiled back, happy to see that dorky smile again.

"I didn't mean to give you a hard time-ve," the Italian said. "I wanted to kiss you too. I really did-ve. I bought all those mint because I wanted our kiss to be amazing... just like this."

"So did you enjoy it?" the German asked grinning.

"Better than pasta!" The Italian answered proudly.

"Really now?

"Well... maybe a little."

"Just a little?" the German teased.

"Ah! I'm sorry! It is better than pasta! Honest, it is! I'm so-"

The Italian's whines were cut off by the German's deep kiss once again. The German broke the kiss halfway.

"Keep apologizing, and I won't ask you out ever again." the German warned grinning still.

"No! I'll stop!" The Italian cried worriedly getting ready to cry. "I want to go to Olive Garden with Ludwig again and eat pasta! I'll give you the rest of my leftover pasta! I promise, Ludwig! I'll-"

Ludwig interrupted his cries with another deep kiss.

Feliciano calmed down and responded to the kiss.

Mondays are the best, the Italian thought.

_Bing_

"Oh, daaaaaamn! Yo, gay lovahs! Get a room! F'real!"

The couple broke away from their kiss and turned to the person with their half talking speech.

They saw a black man who looked no taller than Feliciano. He was wearing a nice black dress shirt with black slacks, and dress shoes, with a nice clean cut. But the first thing the couple noticed was a horrified look on the young man's face when they turned to him.

The black man had his eyes on the German's the whole time. He stumbled backwards falling on his ass trembling, and pointing.

"Y-you!" he stuttered.

The German blinked, looking confused.

"Oh, HELL naw! Y... y' work 'ere?! Naw! Naw! Naw! Naw! Fuck dis shit! I'm workin' at Freckle Bitches!(*)" The black man got up, stumbled over to the exit doors, and ran downstairs. His screams were heard until the door slid shut.

The couple and the other coworkers from their cubicles looked at each other oddly.

"Eh...?" the Italian was the first to speak.

"Who the hell was that?" The German asked noone in particular.

"Well, that WAS our new employee," Alfred answered approaching the couple in the elevator. "He just finished his interview with the boss. He was saying something about getting his... uh... Kiku, what did he say?"

"It was... something about, um... 'get'n mah life 'n check-kno' wha I'm sayin'," Kiku answered, failing miserably in impersonating the man's street talk.

"Yeah, that's it!" the burger lover chuckled, loving how he got the Japanese man to say it again for the eighth time this morning. "He said he changed his ways after attempting to rob some tall blonde guy the other night."

Ludwig blinked.

Feliciano made a face plugging his nose.

"Ludwig, what is that smell?"

**THAT... Feliciano, my dear is the smell of victory!! **

**...holy crap. I did it. I finished my first ever fanfiction!**

**Am I happy?**

**Yep!**

**Will I do another one of these?**

**...um... maybe?**

**When I was in highschool, I would write all the time. Some were original short stories, but I would write poems mostly. I didn't think writing fanfictions would be so hard. Its still fun to do. Don't get me wrong. I now realize it takes a lot of time and patients to get your story just right. Especially getting the personality of the characters down just like in the series/books/tv shows/etc. This lil' piggy gotta long way to go. :P **

**I admit that this was very challenging. I would totally do it again. I might try and finish up that RikuxSora fic.... *smirks* I might even try to come up with a sequel of this last fanfic! What do you readers think? Honesty much?**

**Oh, crap I almost forgot!! Have you guys noticed the little star(*********)? Well there is a meaning behind that! Heheh! Wanna know what they were? :**

**2)**_ The robber froze, staring face to face at his "victim", while his feet was dangling 8cm (__*__) off the ground. _**(Basically in the anime Hetalia, Italy is 8cm shorter than Germany. He was frustrated when he was trying to give Germany a good morning hug. Instead, Germany leans over and kiss both his cheeks... CUTEST. SCENE. EVA!!)**

**3) **_"Oh HELL naw! Y... y' work 'ere?! Naw! Naw! Naw! Naw! Fuck dis shit! I'm workin' at Freckle Bitches!"(__*__) _**(I'm not sure if me and my old college buddies are the only ones who came up with this nonsense, but the name "Freckle Bitches" is another saying for the burger restaurant Wendy's. She has freckles and, well... I guess she's a bitch ROFL.)**

***still laughing wiping away a tear* Yeah.. Ah, get outta here, ya bastards! Nothing more to read here! XD**

**thank you guys for putting up with my bad writingz an' grammerz. Lol All your reviews made me smile, and I appreciate the others critiques, spotting silly errors, and encouraging me to keep going with the story even though this is just my first one. I hope to make another one of these soon! Love you guys, and Be safe!**

**-Hoggy**

**(Oink)**


End file.
